


small victories

by natodiangelo



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Babysitting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Rated T for language, Slow Burn, gintoki is rly gay tho he doesnt know it yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2018-11-30 00:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11452050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natodiangelo/pseuds/natodiangelo
Summary: “I’m calling in my favor.”“What do you want me to do?” Gintoki asks. “Get you some friends? Buy you a life? Sorry, I’m broke at the moment.”“I need you,” Hijikata starts. “To pretend to be my boyfriend again.”





	1. Chapter 1

“Okay… Kintoki, truth or dare?”

Gintoki replies without hesitation. “Dare.”

Sakamoto’s grin widens and he places a hand to his chin as he deliberates. Coming to a decision, he says, “I dare you to egg Hijikata’s house.”

Katsura immediately objects. “He can’t. Gintoki, you can’t.”

“Why can’t I?” Gintoki asks, already moving to stand.

“Hijikata’s dad is a cop,” Katsura answers, voice laced with concern.

“As if that’s ever stopped me before.”

“You’ll get in trouble! Your record is bad enough as it is.” Katsura puts himself between Gintoki and the door of Sakamoto’s room, hands on his hips as though he’s the quintessential authority when it comes to dares. “I won’t allow it.”

“What are you, my mom?” Gintoki brushes passed him into the hallway. “Let your hair down for once, Zura.”

Katsura’s usual, “It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura,” comes, along with the rest of the group as Gintoki makes for the entryway. He kneels down to pull on his shoes as Katsura continues.

“My hair _is_ down, Gintoki. In fact, it’s usually down.” Katsura pushes the hair out of his face and over his shoulder for emphasis. “And I still think this is a bad idea.”

Gintoki straightens and grabs at his coat, shrugging it on. When he turns, it’s to see Sakamoto and Takasugi both pulling on their shoes and Katsura, ever obnoxiously stubborn, staring him down.

“Why do you care?” He asks Katsura. “ _You_ won’t get in trouble. In fact,” he adds confidently, “I won’t either.”

“But what if you do? I don’t want any of us to get in trouble.”

“I just said none of us will get in trouble.” Gintoki says. He opens the door with finality. “Stay here and clean out your ears, Zura.” Then, he leaves the house.

There are two separate pairs of footsteps following him as he walks down the street, and another rushes to catch up. He can’t help smirking to himself; he knew Katsura would tag along, even if he didn’t particularly want to.

Their first stop, before the infamous pretty boy's house, is the corner convenience store. They dig through their pockets and manage to scrounge up enough change between them for a carton of eggs before continuing down the street.

It isn’t late but already the streets are becoming dark, and before long there’s only the street lamps’ intermittent light to see where their feet are hitting. Gintoki leads their group, chatting with Sakamoto, and intentionally ignores Katsura’s staring eyes.

“I wonder what Hijikata’s dad is like,” Gintoki says to Sakamoto. “I’ve met enough of the boys in blue, but I’d think that I’d recognize anyone gross enough to have made him.”

Sakamoto laughs, loud in the barren street. “You’d know better than I would.”

“Anyone should be able to point him out,” says Gintoki. “I mean, Hijikata’s got his own special kind of _disgusting_ that he probably got from his dad. So, it should be obvious.”

“Not everyone pays as much attention to Hijikata as you.” Katsura interjects. “You talk to him the most out of us.”

“I wouldn’t call that talking,” Gintoki makes a face. They usually _fight_ or _argue_ or _bicker_ , rather than _talk_. He raises his voice as he continues. “Though, Hijikata wears enough black to be a part of the emo club with our dear Takasugi.”

Takasugi, he assumes, kicks the back of his knees, bringing him to the ground. Gintoki’s thankful that Katsura had offered to hold the eggs when they left the store – otherwise they would be splattered all over the pavement at this point.

His palms sting from catching himself, but he smirks up at Takasugi anyways. “That’s right, you prefer your men on their knees.” Another kick, this time aimed at his groin. He blocks it awkwardly with his shin.

“Shut the fuck up,” Takasugi growls. Gintoki stands and puts himself in Takasugi’s face, shit-eating grin still in place.

“Make me.”

Takasugi’s one green eye screams murder, and he pulls back his arm at the same time that Katsura speaks.

“Cut it out, you two.” Katsura moves to stand between them, and Takasugi scoffs before turning away. Gintoki grins, one more antagonizing line on his tongue, but Katsura pulls him away. “Let’s not fight.”

Gintoki throws his arm around Katsura’s neck. “You’re right. We have more important things to do.” He continues to walk, Katsura in tow. He knows that Katsura doesn’t appreciate the reminder of what they’re doing – Gintoki can feel the _look_ directed at him – but he just pulls Sakamoto in as well and the three of them stagger down the street.

Not much later they turn onto Hijikata’s street. The street lights seem brighter here, glaring against white painted townhouses and reflecting off cars. When they round on Hijikata’s house Gintoki releases his captives to take a good look at the place. The house is a less blinding tan color, with a garage to the left and a path toward the door in front of them, one mottled gray stripe through a well-kept lawn. It’s _clean_ , and Gintoki can’t wait to change that.

“You guys ready?” asks Gintoki, taking the carton from Katsura and flipping it open. It’s a rhetorical question, but Katsura still answers with a resounding _no_ ; Gintoki decides to take that as a _yes._

He grabs an egg at random, pulls his arm back, takes a steadying breath, and throws; it connects with a solid _smack_ next to a thankfully dark window, and Gintoki grins.

It doesn’t take long to go through most of the carton. It gives him a certain satisfaction to see the long, running lines of orange-white slime that are dripping from the house. _This_ was one of the reasons he didn’t let Katsura dissuade him. The rush he gets while doing something like this, the strange pleasure that comes with fear while doing something risky – he loves it. That’s why his record is as long as it is.

He readies another egg, searching along the house for anywhere unmarred to aim. There’s only a few eggs left and the house is proof – covered nearly entirely by the goo. He finds a dry spot and sends the egg flying.

It’s then that _something_ happens.

 _Something_ being a light turning on.

Downstairs window, on the right; Gintoki can see the dark outline of a figure moving toward the door.

_Fuck._

Before he has time to move the door is opening and he can hear three sets of retreating steps behind him. He whirls around, mouth parting in shock at their betrayal.

“Hey! Kid!”

Gintoki flinches at the words, slowly turning back to face the voice.

“What the hell are you doing?”

His heart in his throat, he tosses the carton behind a nearly car and hopes the action wasn’t too obvious.

“Hey there, sir,” he says, clearing his throat. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

The man towers above him. “Why are you out so late?” Is the man’s first question. Then, with no time for Gintoki to answer: “Why are you throwing eggs at my house?”

“Eggs?” Gintoki asks with feigned confusion.

“Don’t lie to me. You know what you did. But- why did it have to be _eggs?”_ There’s emphasis on _eggs_ , and Gintoki really isn’t sure what to say. Thankfully – or perhaps not – the man continues.

“If Otae finds out- oh God, if Otae finds out she’s going to think it’s about _her_ -” The man grabs Gintoki’s arm and begins to pull him toward the house. “You’re coming with me-”

“W-wait!” Gintoki tries. They pause, and Gintoki wracks his brain desperately. “Hijikata lives here, right?”

“Yeah.” The man frowns at him. “Why?”

“Yeah, because Hijikata- Hijikata, that bastard, he really hurt me, you know? Such an asshole. He deserves this.”

“Toushi did something to you?”

“Y-yeah!” He fakes a scowl, trying to look serious and upset, making things up as he goes. “He, uh… he broke my heart!”

Thank _God_ Takasugi had run away. This was blackmail worthy in so many ways.

“He broke your heart?” The man asks, freezing. “Toushi? Hijikata Toushirou?”

Gintoki swallows. “Yeah, that asshole.”

The man turns away from him, both hands coming up to clutch at his heart. “He had a boyfriend and didn’t tell me?”

 _That’s_ what he gets hung up on?

“A horrible boyfriend and a horrible son.” Gintoki pats the man sympathetically on his shoulder, contemplating the situation he’s currently in. This was _definitely_ not what he had been expecting.

The door opens again, leading a strip of light out to them. Gintoki’s heart drops.

Hijikata walks toward them, brow ever furrowed.

“Kondo?” He asks, then looks at Gintoki. “Sakata?”

“Toushi!” Kondo puts his hands on Hijikata’s shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he wails.

Hijikata looks over at Gintoki for an explanation. Gintoki puts his hands together in front of him, pushing out his lip in what he hopes is a ‘ _please go along with this I don’t want to go to jail’_ face.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?” Hijikata’s face goes slack with shock, staring at Kondo’s face. Then, he glares at Gintoki, who keeps up his pleading position.

Hijikata takes a moment to compose himself before he opens his mouth.

“I, uh, didn’t want you to know that I’m gay,” he says. Gintoki could have kissed him. He would have to find a way to thank him after all this.

Kondo seems to find this an appropriate answer, because he pulls Hijikata into an uncomfortable hug and sobs into his shoulder. “I wouldn’t judge you for that! You’re my son! I’ll always love you, no matter what!” Hijikata scowls at him over Kondo’s back.

“Thanks, Kondo,” Hijikata chokes out. “Means a lot.”

Kondo sniffs and, with great difficulty, stands back. He takes a deep breath and sets his hands on his hips, face falling into a more serious expression.

“Now, Toushi,” Kondo says, sounding like a cross mother, “why did you break this young man’s heart?”

Hijikata’s gaze once again whips over to Gintoki, grinding his teeth.

“I…” Hijikata starts, obviously thinking. “Cause he’s an asshole?” Gintoki reconsiders thanking him.

Kondo frowns. “How is he an asshole? He seems to be a well enough boy.” Gintoki nearly laughs, which just makes Hijikata glare at him harder.

He can see Hijikata’s eyebrow twitching, as well as his hip. Hijikata tries again. “He’s lazy in school and has bad grades. I don’t want to date someone who’s obviously not going anywhere in life.”

 _That_ hits low, but Gintoki supposes it’s fair revenge. It seems to be what Kondo needed to hear, because he hums and puts a hand on Hijikata’s shoulder, turning to face Gintoki.

“You’re already so mature, Toushi,” he says lovingly. If Kondo wasn’t watching him, he would pretend to gag. “You should still apologize, because if he came all the way out here just to egg out house, he’s obviously pretty upset.”

Hijikata’s eyebrows shoot up. Gintoki figures he hadn’t realized that was why Kondo was out here in the first place, and takes the resulting glare without complaint.

“Sorry for breaking your heart, Sakata.” Hijikata grinds out.

“I accept.” In other circumstances, he would have milked everything he could have from this situation, but as it is he’s lucky enough that Hijikata is even playing along, so he tries to end this with as little pain as possible. “I feel much better now. Thank you, Kondo.” He takes a step backwards. “See you in school, Hijikata.”

He turns tail and, without looking back once, runs.

* * *

 

Gintoki slumps his head against his desk.

“Oi, Sakata.” He sighs internally.

He had come into class late intentionally, wanting one, to avoid those _traitors_ from last night, and two, to avoid Hijikata’s wrath. The former, so far, had been successful; none of them ( _them_ being Takasugi and Sakamoto, as Katsura was in a different class) had yet to talk to him, and he definitely didn’t do anything to change that.

The latter, however…

“I know you’re not asleep, bastard.” Hijikata says. Gintoki peeks one eye open and looks up at him. “Come on.” He starts walking away without another word and Gintoki gives another soulful sigh at the loss of his lunch break as he gets up to follow.

Hijikata leads them to the back side of the school. It’s private, at least, between dumpsters and cigarette butts from students who don’t care enough to hide it.

As soon as the door shuts behind them Gintoki is shoved into it. Hijikata’s steel blue eyes bore into him.

“What the _fuck_ was going on yesterday?” He spits, a handful of Gintoki’s school uniform in one hand.

Gintoki shrugs leisurely. “You mean, other than you coming out to your pops?”

The punch that results doesn’t surprise him; he takes it with barely a flinch.

“You know what the hell I mean. Spill.”

Gintoki sighs. “I got dared by the boys to egg your place. Couldn’t back down, you know how it goes.” Gintoki pauses, smirking. “Oh wait, you don’t have friends to back down from.” Another punch, swift to the gut. Gintoki gags a little.

“Stop fucking with me.”

Gintoki sends him a glare of his own. “Pops came out and the first story I could think of was that you broke poor Gin’s heart. Not,” he adds with a sneer, “that I’d ever want to date a bastard like you.”

Hijikata pushes him further into the wall, eyes flashing. “You owe me big for going along with that.” He says. “Whatever I ask, whenever I ask it. Got it?”

Gintoki pulls himself roughly from Hijikata’s grasp. “Got it.” He opens the door and doesn’t take a second look back as he leaves.

* * *

 

“Gintoki!” Katsura is on him as soon as he sits back down. “You disappeared right after class and I couldn’t find you. What happened last night? Why didn’t you come back?”

“You guys just left me there,” he says, leaning back and throwing his feet carelessly onto his desk. “I had to make some shit up, and then Hijikata showed up-”

“What!” Katsura interrupts.

“Shut up, I’m talking. He went along with it, but I owe him a favor now.”

Katsura frowns with concern. “I knew it was a bad idea. I told you, Gintoki-”

“Yeah, well, too late for anything now. How about you buy me an ‘I told you so’ parfait?”

Katsura ignores him. “Sakamoto and Takasugi were both worried too, I could tell, but we weren’t sure what to do – _should we go back?_ But I had to be home soon to fed Elizabeth, you know how she is, so I left and-”

Gintoki blocks him out, figuring the rest of it will be about Elizabeth. It feels kind of nice to know Katsura was concerned, but he wishes they hadn’t left him on his own with Hijikata.

He closes his eyes and settles in for a long day.

* * *

 

It’s a couple weeks later before Hijikata so much as _looks_ at him again.

He never told Sakamoto and them about the actual story – it would lead to endless humiliation on his part and endless humor on theirs. It’s something he feels he should keep between him and Hijikata, and even knowing they have this sort of secret feels weird and out of place.

Perhaps he’ll talk a couple of middle-schoolers into handling over their money to buy a parfait after school. That should help him forget about all this Hijikata bullshit.

He sits through class with his chin on his hand, barely listening to the teacher. When the final bell rings he leans back in his chair and stretches.

“You wanna hang at my place?” Sakamoto asks from the seat to Gintoki’s right. It’s a tempting offer; Sakamoto isn’t nosy like Katsura and would let him blow off steam in peace. He glances around the classroom as he thinks it over. It’s almost empty already, everyone eager to leave – except Hijikata, who is looking at him pointedly. He motions his head like _come here_ , and Gintoki turns back to Sakamoto suppressing a sigh.

“Not today,” he says. “Maybe you can pull Zura’s head out of his ass long enough to have a conversation.”

Sakamoto laughs. “Maybe. He’s probably studying.”

“Probably. Go pull his wig off and make him have some fun.

Sakamoto solutes and runs off, leaving Gintoki and Hijikata the only ones in the room. He takes his time walking over to him, pleased with how irritated Hijikata looks.

“What is it, my dear Hijikata?” He asks, settling himself on top of Hijikata’s desk.

Hijikata hesitates, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “I’m calling in my favor.”

Gintoki wasn’t expecting that.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks. “Get you some friends? Buy you a life? Sorry, I’m broke at the moment.” Hijikata looks ready to punch him. He stares at Gintoki for a moment before suddenly turning around.

“Never mind.” He says. Gintoki blinks.

“What?” he asks, jumping off the desk to follow. “Sorry I can’t buy you a life, but I could probably bribe some chick to do you-”

Hijikata whirls around. “I need you,” he starts, cutting Gintoki off. “To pretend to be my boyfriend again.” His face is red, a high contrast to his black hair and blue eyes.

“What? Why?”

Hijikata glances around, as though suddenly realizing they’re out in the hallway, totally visible to anyone who might walk by. He doesn’t make eye contact as he continues.

“There's a lot of girls who won't leave me alone.” He says quietly. “I keep telling them to fuck off but they won't. You owe me a favor and since it was _you_ who thought that being my _boyfriend_ was the best excuse out of a situation, I thought it might work for this, too.”

It takes him a minute for all this to sink in. Hijikata, _asking_ him to be his boyfriend? _Not_ what he was expecting.

“You mean there's girls willing to go after your ass?” Is the first thing that comes out of Gintoki's mouth, and he gets hit for it. Rubbing his arm, he follows it up with, “I don't know if one favor covers this.”

Hijikata glares at him. “Kondo won't stop talking about you. It's hell, honestly, not even being gay and having him constantly 'Do you think that guy's hot? What about him?'” He shoves an accusing finger into Gintoki’s chest. “It's _your_ fault, so _yeah_ , I think one favor covers it.”

Gintoki almost snorts. “Well, who wouldn't be gay after looking at the incredibly handsome Gin?” Another smack. “Fine, I'll help you.”

Hijikata almost sags in relief. He glances over Gintoki's face once before turning around and starting to walk off, barely a “thanks” thrown over his shoulder.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Gintoki says, falling into pace beside him. “Don't I get any more of a _thank you_? As your now-boyfriend, I order you to buy me a parfait.”

Hijikata doesn't look at him, eyes on the stairs they're descending.

“This is only at school, so don't even talk to me outside. I just need you to act like it if there's girls by me, or if I say so.” They stop at the shoe lockers. “I still hate you.” Hijikata adds with venom.

“The feeling's mutual.” Gintoki shoves his backpack into his cubby.

Hijikata doesn't say anything else until he's pushing the door open to leave.

“If you tell anyone,” He threatens. “I'll kill you.” Then he's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright so ive been working on this fic for like... 9 months and ive finally decided to just post the first chap 
> 
> the initial idea came from a prompt that i dont have anymore that said something like "I egged your house cause of truth or dare but your dad is a cop and please go along with my story i dont want to go to jail" and eventually mutated into a fake dating au 
> 
> this first chapter isn't honestly as good as i want (esp the beginning i cringe when i read it) but im done having it sit in my folder unpublished lmao 
> 
> please tell me what you think!!! it motivates me and i need all the motivation i can get lmao
> 
> UPDATE: ive had a few different comments on here and ffn and i wanted to clear up a few things:  
> 1) hijikata is part of the foster care system, and kondo is his foster parent. thats why hijikata doesn't call him dad even though kondo treats him like his son  
> 2) kondo and otae are NOT TOGETHER. i didn't mean to make it seem that way. kondo is the same as canon and is obsessed with her. otae and kyuubei are together in this fic


	2. Chapter 2

Nothing happens.

Not that Gintoki exactly expected something to happen. But.

Nothing happens.

He goes to school the next day and the only interaction he has before lunch is Sakamoto talking about the stars and the teacher yelling at him to stop sleeping in class. At lunch, Katsura chats about Elizabeth's new bow. Even Takasugi comes for once, not hanging out with that weird bunch on the roof like usual. They crowd around his and Sakamoto's desks and laugh, and when the bell rings it's with plans to go to Takasugi's after school.

Hijikata doesn't talk to him, and he definitely doesn't talk to Hijikata, so he hangs out with the boys and forgets about it.

The next day is the same. Then it's the weekend.

He doesn't tend to worry over things. He sets it to the back of his mind and listens to whatever new band Takasugi has going as they play an intense game of Mario Kart, helps Katsura give Elizabeth a bath, lays on the roof with Sakamoto and watches the stars.

 

* * *

 

On Monday, something happens.

He sleeps through his morning classes, and it’s lunch when he finally wakes. The classroom is loud with laughter – not unusual during lunch, but when Gintoki peeks open one eye and peers out at the room, he sees one desk surrounded by a hoard of girls.

He sits up, intrigued.

He can see the edges of Hijikata's messy black hair between the pale sweaters the girls are wearing. He can also see, when the mob shifts, his face, smile wavering and eyebrow twitching. Gintoki grins.

Decision made he stands up and swaggers over, saying vague _'excuse me'_ s as he shoves through to the middle. Hijikata looks up at him with surprise.

“Hello, ladies.” Gintoki says, putting on his best smile as he addresses the crowd. He leans his forearm on Hijikata's shoulder, the epitome of suave, casual, and charming. “What are you all doing, harassing poor Toushirou?” He feels Hijikata's shoulder tense.

“We weren't harassing him.” One girl says, brushing hair over her shoulder. “We were just talking.” The other girls agree, nodding.

He turns to Hijikata. “Is that true, Toushirou?” The quickly concealed look of horror on his face just makes want to Gintoki grin wider.

“Y-yeah, we were just talking.” Hijikata grinds out.

Gintoki pouts. “Don't go talking to that many women at once. I'll get jealous, you know?”

“Sorry...”

Gintoki can't believe his luck. It takes almost more self control than he has to not start laughing right then, but he manages, somehow.

He faces the girls again and pulls Hijikata into an awkward half hug, black hair tickling his cheek. “Don't crowd my Toushirou too often, okay?” He tells them. “He's mine at lunch.” And with that, Gintoki swiftly grabs a chair from a neighboring desk, pulls it up to Hijikata's, and sits down.

The girls, luckily, begin to disperse, whispers still loud among them. Once their all-seeing eyes have moved off of them Hijikata turns on him with a glare that could turn milk bad. Gintoki stares easily back.

“So? Was Gin's performance excellent? A-plus?”

“As if you could get an A-plus in anything.” Hijikata snaps.

“You hurt me.” Gintoki rests his head on his arms, looking up at Hijikata through his bangs. Hijikata's intentionally not looking at him, picking at his nails and looking across the classroom.

“Where's your lunch?” Gintoki asks him, surprising even himself with the question. Hijikata looks at him suspiciously.

“Don't have one.” He says.

Gintoki uses his best mom-voice when he says, “Don't you know you're supposed to eat three meals a day?”

“Yeah? And where's your lunch?”

“Being made by my beautiful mother back home at my mansion. She's going to deliver it later.”

Hijikata snorts. “Yeah, okay.”

Gintoki sits up, looking him in the eye. “Are you making fun of my mansion? Making fun of my beautiful _mother?”_

“Nothing that gave birth to _you_ could be beautiful.”

“You dare insult my superior looks-”

The bell rings. Hijikata jumps, his frown falling back into place. Gintoki looks at him for a moment, thoughts a mess of letters in his mind, before standing up loudly, shoving the chair back into its place, and returning to his desk.

He goes to Sakamoto's after school and they play video games until it's dark. He doesn't think about Hijikata or Hijikata's frown or the fact that, for a couple of minutes, he didn't seem to hate Gintoki as much.

 

* * *

 

Gintoki is sitting opposite Hijikata, watching him finish today’s homework. His own worksheet sits crumpled and uncompleted in his bag, but he pays it no mind. If he starts putting in work this early in the year the teachers will start to have – dare he say it – _expectations_ of him, and that would mean he wouldn't be able to slack off as freely. He enjoys not having to do work, thank you.

So, he watches Hijikata.

For the last couple of weeks it's been like this – Gintoki making himself comfortable on or around Hijikata's desk, and Hijikata all but ignoring him. It works, he thinks, even if it's boring. It keeps the girls away if nothing else, and that's what he's here for.

Hijikata's face is blank as he writes. His skin is paler than Gintoki's, sun bleached bark on the beach compared to the sand. It looks so soft and smooth. Gintoki wants to shove him through a wood grinder.

“Let's go somewhere today.” He says. Hijikata glances at him, eyebrows coming down in a familiar frown.

“Why?”

Gintoki figures _this_ , Hijikata not immediately saying ' _No'_ ,  is improvement. He makes a mental tally mark under his name to mark this victory.

“I want a parfait, and since you're my _boyfriend_ -” He puts extra emphasis on it. “-I thought you should come too.”

Hijikata opens his mouth and Gintoki's sure he's going to say _'No, dumbass, go just like you'll die: alone'_ or _'I don't want to be seen with you at the store'_ or _'you're going to die of diabetes. Alone.'_  -- but all that comes out is, “Just give me a second to put this away.”

Gintoki blinks.

He blinks again.

Then Hijikata's standing up and walking to the classroom door and looking back at him with irritation. “You're the one that wanted to go, and now you're not going to get up?”

Gintoki stumbles to his feet and jogs to catch up. “I was distracted by the thought of finally having my parfait.” He says. “She's going to look so beautiful. I'm going to eat her like I'm making love – slowly, taking pleasure-”

“ _God_ , stop, _please_.” Hijikata makes a face.

“Oh, that's right, you're a cherry boy who doesn't understand _true_ love like the love between a man and his parfait.”

“ _I'm_ the cherry boy? You're such a cherry boy that you have to love your parfait because no one else will love you.” Hijikata says, descending the stairs two at a time. Gintoki's right behind him.

“At least I _have_ a parfait. All you have is your hoard of girls you keep pushing away.”

“You don't have it yet.” Hijikata says.

“No, but I'm coming for her. She's in the refrigerated section, sitting there all cold, waiting for me to come warm her up-”

Hijikata shoves him out the door and onto the street, cutting him off. He glances at Hijikata beside him as they walk; aside from squinting at the sun, doesn't seem more grouchy than usual. He takes this as another victory.

It's only a couple of blocks to the store and Gintoki spends each second preparing himself for the parfait. He hasn't had one in almost a _week_ – much too long for a sugar-addict like himself. He explains this to Hijikata at length. Hijikata tells him to shut up.

They walk the rest of the way in silence.

Neither of them realize the time until they're walking back into the school. The final bell rings and they share a look of horror before taking off up the stairs.

Gintoki pauses outside the door to catch his breath and check that his parfait isn't too shaken from the run. Hijikata just shoves open the door and goes to his seat. Gintoki ignores the teacher's glare as he sits down, puts the parfait next to the desk (he didn't think he could push his luck far enough to actually eat it in class) and rests his head back down on his arms.

 

* * *

 

(He blows Hijikata a kiss on his way out of the classroom later that afternoon, obnoxious kiss-y noise and all. Hijikata flips him off. Unscathed, he considers this yet another victory.)

 

* * *

 

“So, when did you and Hijikata start dating?”

Katsura looks over at Gintoki in shock. Takasugi doesn’t look up from his phone. Sakamoto watches him expectantly.

Gintoki sticks his pinky in his nose. “Who?”

Sakamoto opens his mouth but Katsura beats him to it.

“Why didn’t you tell us, Gintoki? Why didn’t you tell _me?”_ Katsura’s voice says he’s been personally insulted, but his eyes say _gossip._ Gintoki flicks a booger at him.

“I’m not dating him-“

“You sit with him at lunch everyday, though.”

“I was wondering why you kept turning down my lunch study sessions!”

“That’s not why he turned those down.”

“I’m not dating him.” They look at him, disbelieving, as he shifts to lay on his side on Takasugi’s bed. “What? I’m not some weird species of space monkey to be stared at.”

“You can confide in us, Gintoki.” Katsura says, the picture of a kind and trustworthy friend. His eyes still spell _gossip_ , however, and Gintoki doesn’t want to imagine the ears this might end up relayed into.

Takasugi snorts. Sakamoto stays silent. Gintoki just sighs.

“I’m telling the truth. I’m not dating that asshole.”

“You want to, though.” Takasugi says, eye glinting with amusement. Gintoki reaches down, pulls off his sock, rolls it up, and throws it at Takasugi’s face. It brings him great pleasure to watch Takasugi flinch and scrunch his face in disgust as he flicks the sock off himself.

“Like fucking hell I want to. Have you seen that bastard?”

Katsura speaks up next. “Then why have you been sitting with him at lunch.”

Gintoki pauses.

He’s not supposed to talk about their deal – the fact that this is all a favor. He usually wouldn’t have blinked an eye at revealing it – usually wouldn’t have cared at all.

But.

But he does, for some reason. He doesn’t want to go against his promise, no matter how much that asshole irritates him.

So.

“I was lying. I am dating him. We’re madly in love.” Pinky still nail deep in his nose, he’s the epitome of sincere. Takasugi snorts again. “We’re thinking of a summer wedding – so we can miss Takasugi’s birthday without looking rude.”

“As if you’ve ever cared about that.” Says Takasugi.

“Be serious,” Katsura scolds. “We just want to know what’s going on.”

“Speak for yourself.” Takasugi sneers. “I don’t have any interest in his non-existent love life.”

“Hey! I just told you, I’m in love with him! You’re not invited to the wedding now.”

“Oh, no. How could you. I’m so devastated that I don’t get to go to your fake wedding.”

Gintoki reaches down and throws his remaining sock at him. Takasugi dives out of the way – onto Sakamoto’s lap, shoving him over, too. They roll around for a minute, tangled in the blanket Sakamoto had wrapped himself in, before a head of messy black hair resurfaces, red-faced. Sakamoto’s giggling madly, so Gintoki lays back down, one knee propped up and the other crossed on top.

“Stop throwing your nasty socks at me.” Takasugi orders.

“Stop being a little bitch.”

“You know that isn’t going to happen.” Sakamoto says.

“Okay, you guys. Let’s stop fighting.” Katsura says.

He can still feel Takasugi glaring at him, harsh and burning, but he’s too used to it to mind. The topic changes and before Gintoki realizes it’s midnight and Katsura is corralling them into bed. With Sakamoto’s warmth at his back and Katsura’s hair in his face, Gintoki falls asleep.

 

* * *

 

Gintoki looks around his room.

It’s messy, as usual. Clothes are sprawled across the floor where he was too lazy to pick them up, and papers are littered next to his bed, discarded from his backpack. Textbooks lay unused next to his cluttered desk.

There’s something off about the room, but he can’t quite place it. A sort of anticipation drips down his spine.

He turns, and comes face to face with himself. He looks into the one mirror he has, glances over his tangled white hair, stares into his maroon eyes. Deep purple bags, the kind that come from years of restless sleep, highlight his eyes. Normal.

Movement catches his eye, a shadow behind him – his breath stops and he whirls around-

It’s Hijikata.

Silky black hair, deep blue eyes, uniform shirt loose – the same Hijikata he’s always known.

But he’s smiling.

It’s a soft smile, affectionate. Hijikata’s fond gaze captures him, reels him in, and before he realizes it they’re inches apart and Hijikata’s hand is coming up to cup his jaw.

Something warm pools in his chest, heavy but not unpleasant. He looks into those summer blue eyes, watches as they flutter shut, swallows as his own follow suit. Hijikata lets out a sigh between them and Gintoki can feel it on his lips.

They’re getting closer, the space between them rapidly decreasing. His arms reach up toward Hijikata without thought, closing the last of the gap, and their lips finally brush –

 

Gintoki wakes with a gasp, struggling to sit up. He feels like he’s suffocating, and he can’t _move –_

He takes a deep breath and looks around, squinting into the darkness. The room is dim, but he can just barely make out Sakamoto’s face in front of him, slack with sleep. Sakamoto’s arms are a trap around him and it takes him a minute to extract himself, but eventually he standing and maneuvering himself around Katsura’s cascading locks and twenty different shirts scattered across Takasugi’s floor.

He opens the bathroom door with a little too much force, slapping his hand across the wall until he hits the correct light switch. He puts his hands on the edge of the sink and leans heavily into them, staring at himself in the mirror.

No Hijikata. The wall behind him stays still, and after a moment he rubs a hand over his face. There are bags highlighting his eyes, and a glance over at the clock shows it to be _much_ too early for him to be awake. He represses a groan and turns on the tap, shoving his hands under the flow.

He's _definitely_ not going to think about that dream. He doesn't want to question his already muddled thoughts, especially not at _Takasugi's_ house, and _especially_ not about Hijikata.

He cups his hands and lets the water collect.

If only they hadn't teased him the night before, he thinks, he wouldn't have had this messed up dream. It's because their conversation brought Hijikata to the forefront of his mind. He nods to his reflection.

There's nothing for him to think about, because it was only because of the conversation.

He repeats this as he walks back into the bedroom and tries to find his way back to his spot. With him gone Sakamoto had latched onto Katsura, who holds him back with just as much passion. He steps over them.

As he wraps himself in one of the many blankets they had thrown out earlier Takasugi rolls to face him.

“What were you doing?” He asks, voice lowered and only slightly groggy.

“Taking a piss.” Gintoki flips himself over so he's staring at Sakamoto's back, but he can still hear Takasugi mumble ' _gross_ ' before there's silence.

He doesn't fall asleep again until there's light peeking through the sides of Takasugi's curtains.

 

* * *

 

“- and get this, Elizabeth _quacked!_ I know, I can't believe it either. Always the jokester, Elizabeth.” Katsura ends his story with a hearty laugh. Sakamoto joins in. Gintoki doesn't raise his head from the desk.

As Katsura moves on to another one of Elizabeth's riveting adventures, Gintoki stares blankly at one of the posters on the wall above his head.

The dream he had a few nights ago is still bouncing around his head, even with his firm belief that it was purely connected to that night's conversation, and it’s entirely coincidental to how _horrible_ Hijikata looks today, with his wind mussed black hair and summer blue eyes.

Gintoki isn't sure what's happening.

Hijikata's the same as he always is, face scrunched and grumpy, eyes screaming death upon anyone who looks at him wrong. But, suddenly, it's less unpleasant. His voice is smoother, his clothes fit nicer. This little voice in the back of his head is yelling at him how _attractive_ Hijikata is today, and he tells it to _shut the fuck up_ as best he can without actually yelling it out loud.

He doesn't sit with Hijikata at lunch, and as soon as the final bell rings he's out the door.

He doesn't go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after this chapter we'll be getting more into the the rest of the plot - ill begin introducing other characters (yes, kagura and shinpachi lol) and building up side plot. i am sorry for slow updates but please bear with me! if anyone would like a sneak peek feel free to message me on tumblr (also natodiangelo)! 
> 
> also please please please let me know how youre liking this fic so far! every comment means the world to me and keeps me motivated to keep writing. thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a Monday, and Gintoki’s getting a job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow!! a new chapter!! after like a year omg im sorry but!! hopefully ill be able to get the next chapter done quicker
> 
> i hope you enjoy!!!

The ground is refreshingly solid beneath his feet as he walks, gray sidewalk dappled pink, green, brown with gum. With his hands stuffed deep into his pockets he can't feel the cool air but his breath is beginning to mist pale before him and he's grateful he remembered his jacket this morning. Fall is a whisper in the wind, pulling at his hair and tickling his nose. He kicks at a rock, and the _clink_ of it hitting a nearby fence is more satisfying than it probably should be.

It’s a Monday, and he’s getting a job.

He had seen the flier posted on the board inside Snack Otose, covered in small print that he almost ignored. Only almost, thankfully, because the pay had caught his eye and just that was more than worth whatever job it was. He had quickly written down the address so that he could search it out.

Really, he just wants the money.

It doesn’t take him long to get there. He checks the address against the house in front of him. It’s a large and slightly rundown, with brown walls and dark windows and a scooter left abandoned in the yard. He steps over the broken stones of the walkway and knocks on the door.

No one answers.

He knocks again, louder this time. He’s going to be irritated if he came all this way and no one’s home, but he can hear the sound of bare feet slapping against hardwood floors and then the door is opening.

A kid greets him.

She’s young – seven? Eight, maybe – and short, not even coming up to his shoulder. Her hair is vibrantly orange and with her red clothes she’s a ball of bright color against the muddy brown of the door. She frowns up at him, too serious for her size.

“Who the hell are you?” She asks. Gintoki is thrown off by her language.

“Who the hell are you, kid?” Gintoki asks back. If he was honest, he hadn’t looked at the ad much more than checking the days they were available, and he wonders suddenly if it was put out by this kid.

“I’m not telling a stinky teenager like you!” She says. Her bare toes wiggle against the cold air outside.

“Then I’m not telling, either.” He peeks over her head into the empty hallway behind her. “Where are your parents?”

“Papa’s not home yet. If he’s gonna come home at all tonight.” 

“Do you know when your papa’s going to get home?” Gintoki asks.

She shakes her head.

Gintoki has lived on his own most of his life, but it still concerns him that this little girl is home alone. At her age he had already ran away from his foster home and was living in the street, stealing money from unsuspecting bypassers. He doesn’t think it’s that bad for her, but the thought of another kid going through that sits uncomfortable in his mind.

“When your papa gets home tell him that Gintoki came by for the job.” Gintoki says. Her eyes dart to his face.

“He might be off this weekend.” She says. “Though I don’t know if he’ll talk to a shitty teenager.” Then the door shuts and he’s left looking at its flaking paint. 

 

* * *

 

“What’s been up with you lately?”

They’re at lunch. Gintoki’s sitting backwards on the chair in front of Hijikata’s desk, head resting on his crossed arms. Hijikata has his homework out in front of him but his pencil is idle in his hand. Summer blue eyes look at him with a concern he’d never thought he’d see from Hijikata Toushirou.

“What do you mean?” Gintoki asks, leaning back in the chair to stretch. “I’m always this hot. Always.”

Hijikata scowls. “You’re not, for one. And that’s not what I meant.” He taps his pencil on the desk. “You just seem… different. Quieter. You haven’t insulted me all day.”

“You’re just too stupid to understand my insults.”

“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Why do you care?” It comes out harsher than Gintoki had planned. Hijikata’s eyes go wide with shock before shrinking to a frown.

“I don’t.” Hijikata snaps. “I’m just playing the good boyfriend and you seemed upset.”

“I’m not upset.” Gintoki answers, laying his head back down. “Just finish the homework so I can copy you.”

“I’m not letting you copy me again.”

“I’m your boyfriend, so you have to. It’s in the rules.”

“I’m not gonna encourage you to be lazy.” Hijikata says, which doesn’t sound like a _no_ to Gintoki.

“You’re not encouraging me, you’re just doing me a favor. Since I’m your boyfriend.”

Hijikata watches him with a pained expression before sighing. “This is the last time.”

They both know that next week Gintoki’s going to get the answers from him again, and they both know that Hijikata won’t put up much of a fight.

It seems like so long ago that Hijikata wouldn’t so much as look at him, and now they bicker like life long friends. They still hate each other, Gintoki thinks, but it isn’t as prominent as before. He really hadn’t expected this from their deal.

He’d expected school hours to be filled with short, boyfriend-like moments: a kiss as they pass in the hallways; fake love-filled gazes across the classroom; holding hands as they leave the school, until they’re far enough away to go back to hating each other.

There’s been none of that.

No kisses, no hand holding, no loving glances. Gintoki forces affection onto him when it’s needed and – and that’s it. They sit together when they can, they walk in the hallways together sometimes, and that’s it.

Gintoki isn’t sure why he’s so disappointed.

It’s not like he _wants_ all that – of course not. He doesn’t like Hijikata that way, never, and even if he _did_ he _definitely_ isn’t the type to be into PDA. He doesn’t want to kiss anyone or hold hands or gaze lovingly at them. He doesn’t want that.

But that doesn’t explain why he still feels like he’s missing something.

Gintoki watches Hijikata with his head in his arms. Watches his hand move as he writes, watches the twitch in his brow as he thinks, watches the dart of his eyes as he reads.

He wonders if Hijikata ever feels like that. Ever composed, ever independent Hijikata longing for someone to kiss and touch.

Gintoki doubts it. There’s too many rules and responsibilities in his head for there to be room for something like romance.

The lunch bell rings and people begin to stand. Gintoki does the same, stretching and pushing his chair in. He pauses to watch Hijikata stuff papers into his backpack, follows the curve of his neck beneath black hair and the sweep of his back as he leans, before heading to his desk.

He definitely doesn’t want something like _that_ , and _especially_ not with an asshole like Hijikata.

Definitely.

 

* * *

 

It takes years for the weekend to come.

Gintoki does his chores in the shop below – washing dishes, putting them away, wiping down the tables – before getting ready.

He’s got a busy day ahead of him.

He upends his backpack onto his bed and replaces the books and pencils with a change of clothes and a game he doesn’t have the console for. He’s going to Takasugi’s house after he deals with his other plan for the day, and it’s definitely not just because Takasugi has the console he needs.

(It is.)

Backpack slung over his shoulder, Gintoki leaves the house. He has the paper with the address shoved in his back pocket but he remembers the way from the last time he’d been there. It feels like a shorter walk this time around, and before he knows it the same creaking old house looms above him.

He knocks.

When the door opens this time, he doesn’t have to look down.

Gintoki’s greeted by a man who has only one small strand of hair to cover his whole head. He's shorter than Gintoki, wearing a heavy coat and thick glasses. He squints at Gintoki for a moment.

“Who’re you?”

 “I’m here about your ad.” Gintoki can see the red-headed girl from over the man’s shoulder. Her eyes open wide when she sees him.

“You!” She screams. She peeks underneath the man’s arm, and he looks down at her.

“Kagura, you know him?”

She nods, though there’s still an angry tilt to her frown. “He came by yesterday looking for you.

The man shoots him a suspicious look. “He did, did he?”

“I’m here about your ad.” Gintoki repeats.

“Well, good thing I’m here today, Kagura,” He continues. “I can protect you from this mischieving youngster…”

“I’m here about your ad.”

“Teenagers these days, thinking they can walk up to anyone’s house and demand respect.”

“I’m here about your goddamn ad.”

“Ad?”

Gintoki barely controls the urge to roll his eyes.

“Ad. The one you put in the paper? About the babysitting. I’m here about it.”

The man runs one hand over his head. “Ad…” Then his face lights up. He gestures vaguely, “Oh, _that_ ad!”

“Yeah.”

“Kagura!” He calls behind him. Gintoki hadn’t notice her walk back inside, but it becomes evident as she peeks around the corner of the next room. “Come here!” She rolls her eyes.

“Old man won’t leave me alone,” She grumbles. He puts a hand on her head but she pulls herself away.

“What do you think of him?” He asks her, gesturing to Gintoki.

This isn’t really what he expected when he left the house this morning. He tries to ignore the disgusted look she sends him.

“ _Him?”_

“I’m right here, you know.”

“I don’t think he’s that bad.”

“He’s a _teenager_. All teenagers are gross.”

“Kamui is a teenager!”

“I rest my case.”

The man seems to contemplate for a moment. He turns to Gintoki.

“What’s your name?”

“Gintoki.”

“Age?”

“Seventeen.”

Why did Gintoki think this was a good idea? Why? He’s not good with kids – hates them, if he’s honest, though he knows they don’t know any better. Maybe Otose is right. He’s just a dumbass who never thinks things through.

“Deal.”

“What?”

“I expect you here as soon as you finish school every day. We can work out pay later.”

“Wait, what-“

“See you Monday.”

And the door closes.

 

* * *

 

“Shitty fucking old man doesn’t even tell me what’s going on,” Gintoki grumbles, shoving another handful of chips into his mouth. “I better get paid fucking well for this.”

“Watch the fucking screen.” Takasugi tells him. Gintoki looks up to see his character dying.

“Shit.”

They play silently, only the character’s voices coming garbled through Takasugi’s speakers.

 

* * *

 

Gintoki stares at the dark ceiling of his room. Shadows dance in the corners, brought to life from the flickering light of cars passing outside his window. He listens to the clock tick on the other side of the room.

He had another dream. About Hijikata. That fucking asshole can’t even leave him alone in the solitude of unconsciousness. He wishes that it was the actual Hijikata causing this, so he could go yell at him or beat him up. Instead, the one at fault is himself.

He doesn’t know why he’s so caught up about this.

He turns onto his side to face the wall.

Another car passes, this one blaring out some song with a heavy beat. Once it’s gone, he listens to his heart pound in his ears.

Why did he agree? What made him think it would be a good idea to go along with Hijikata? Pretending to be his boyfriend? It was stupid. Unnecessary. There had to have been another way to make it up to him.

He seems to be making all sorts of bad decisions as of late.

 

* * *

 

“Gintoki.”

“Hmm?”

“Were you listening at all?”

“No.”

“Asshole.”

He doesn’t lift his head, instead raising one hand to flip Hijikata off.

“The teacher partnered us up for this assignment.” Hijikata tells him. “When do you want to work on it?”

“Can’t you just do it for me?”

“I’m not your personal homework machine. You have to put in effort. Otherwise I’ll tell the teacher you did nothing.”

“Fine, fine. Tell me what to do then.”

Hijikata makes a list, because that, apparently, is what Hijikata does. He tells Gintoki the things he needs to do and writes his number down on the side of the paper, telling him to text if he has questions.

“Only for questions, alright?” Hijikata clarifies. “Don’t be sending me useless shit.”

“Got it.”

Then class ends and Gintoki packs up his stuff and heads out for his job.

Kagura answers the door with a frown.

“Nice to see you, too.” Gintoki says as he pushes past her into the house.

“You don’t have to watch me,” She tells him. “I can take care of myself.”

“Uh huh.”

She punches him in the side. He yelps. It _hurt_.

“What the hell?”

“I can take care of myself.” She repeats.

“Yeah, well, I need the money.”

He looks around as he walks further into the house. The walls are mostly bare, dirty white wall paper stained grey from age. The entry way opens up into the living room, with a kitchen off to the side. Another hallway leads to what he assumes are the bedrooms.

He shows himself into the living room and flops onto the couch. After a moment, Kagura follows.

“So.”

“So?”

“Are you really doing this for the money?”

“Why else would I want to put up with a grouchy brat like you?”

She doesn’t say anything.

They sit there for a few minutes. Gintoki observes the room idly.

There’s a TV – old, the screen dusty and unused. It sits on a short table, under which is a box. He can’t see inside it. There’s a desk covered in papers in one corner, and an armchair adjacent to where he sits. The floor is in desperate need of a good mop.

The house looks lived in, yes, but not taken cared for. Not that Gintoki’s really surprised. From the first time he came here, he has assumed that Kagura was just left on her own most of the time – it still angers him, a little, that a kid her age is having to take care of herself. But he doesn’t know their story. Doesn’t know the situation. So he says nothing.

He tries to think of normal kid things. Normal parenting things. He’s out of his element here.

“Are you hungry?” He asks.

“No.”

He goes silent.

They sit there for a while longer, until Gintoki gets restless and pulls his backpack over to him. Then he works on homework.

“What are you doing?”

“Statistics.”

“What’s that?”

“Math.”

“Hm.”

She watches him work.

He imagines Hijikata’s face if he could see him. Working on homework. Watching some shitty brat. He’d raise his eyebrow skeptically and ask whether he was actually making a list of everything he hates about Hijikata.

“Can you help me with my homework?” She asks him. He nods, and she scampers off to retrieve her work.

They move to the kitchen table, where they can spread out their papers comfortably. She’s in fourth grade, Gintoki figures, a little older than he had thought but still young. He walks her through the basic calculations and teaches her how to do the work he’s doing and finds that she isn’t quite as shitty as he thought.

“You know,” She tells him, when the clock is ticking close to the six. “I thought you were a horrible, disgusting, shitty, gross teenager.”

“But?”

“That’s it.”

She’s definitely as shitty as he thought.


End file.
